


Athazagoraphobia

by primalrageanddumbassery



Category: King Falls AM (Podcast)
Genre: A lot of hugs, After the 4th Sammiversary but before christmas, Angst, Bandaging wounds, Cause they're brothers y'all, Cussing, Fear of forgetting and being forgotten, Flashbacks, Fluff, Gen, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, I fucking love these boys idk what else to say, Let's just assume Lily was staying with Katie or something, M/M, Nightmares, No Beta we die like Cecil, Platonic Sammy and Ben, RIP Mr. Sheffield i miss u every day, Some lovely Ben and Sammy fluff, Some lovely pre-King Falls Jack and Sammy fluff, Sometime during 2019, TW: Self Deprecation, TW: Self Harm, it's hug city over here yall, sammy refers to the Shadowmaker as Shadowfuck and i just thought it was funny, soft, tw: mention of suicide, tw: panic attack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:42:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27840949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/primalrageanddumbassery/pseuds/primalrageanddumbassery
Summary: Athazagoraphobia (uh-thaz-uh-gore-uh-foe-bee-uh)NounThe fear of forgetting or being forgottenSammy has a nightmare. Ben comforts him. You know the drill.
Relationships: Ben Arnold & Sammy Stevens, Sammy Stevens/Jack Wright
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	Athazagoraphobia

**Author's Note:**

> I want to take this time to say Oil, if you're out there, thanks for the surprisingly appropriate prompt ily crackhead  
> But yeah, I wanted to write some KFAM angst but i had no prompt so i go into my writer's guild and i go "GIMME A 1 WORD PROMPT" and my buddy oil throws out such beauties as "pleonasm", "parallax", "eloquent", and "athazagoraphobia" so. yeah uh here's a lovely little hurt/comfort fic based on that, enjoy
> 
> CONTENT WARNINGS:  
> Self Harm  
> Panic Attack  
> Mentions of Suicide  
> Mentions of Blood  
> Self Deprecation  
> Bandaging of Wounds  
> Fear of Forgetting and/or Being Forgotten  
> Nightmares
> 
> PLEASE let me know if there's anything else you think I need to add! I want everybody to be safe while reading!

The dark was never a good place to start. Not even at the best of times, and Sammy was most certainly not in the best of times. The immediate association with that which took his fiancé, his _Jack,_ made the already bad and scary considerably worse. The thing about fearing the dark when you're little is that eventually you learn that your fear is probably unbased. You can know that there's no bogeyman or monster in your closet, nothing to snatch you up in the night. Then, if you're still scared, at least you can be comfortable in knowing that you're being silly.

  
But the thing about Sammy's fear of the dark was that he knew it was justified, every bit of it. It wasn't just a hypothetical bogeyman; it was the _Shadowmaker_ , the one who took his Jack without a second thought to what, or who, he would leave behind. It was the knowledge that the Shadowmaker could just decide to take anyone else in his family if he felt like it, taking them one by painful one until all that was left was poor, broken Sammy Stevens, all alone in his fancy new radio station up on the mountain with nary a soul to make Star Trek jokes or say "I love you" or give him grief. And there would be nothing he could do.

  
Darkness may have been where it began, but there was far too much for Sammy to see for it to stay that way. After all, can one truly be scared to the fullest extent if one of the senses is impaired?

  
It was a harsh light that flooded in, cold as the pit in his stomach and twice as striking. He held up a hand to shade his eyes from the overhead light, unsure where it came from but positive that he didn't want to find out. When the world came into focus, he could make out trees, stretching out for ever and ever it seemed. One, an ancient oak with the bark peeling off and a large knot at the base. Another, some kind of gnarled evergreen, growing around and through a piece of rusty barbed wire. He knew those two trees, didn't he? He took a slow step towards the evergreen, squatting down to look closer at the barbed wire. Suddenly, it hit him like a ton of bricks. He vaguely remembered walking in the direction of this tree, his eyes focusing on it for just something to look at, something to trace with his eyes and find patterns in while he walked so he didn't have to _think_. He remembered exactly when that happened and knew exactly where he was. The icy hand of dread caressed the back of his neck and stood up straight the hairs on it. How did he get here? He wouldn't just go back, not after the first time. Was he dumped here? By whom? He scanned frantically for a vehicle, footprints, anything to tell him what had happened. Nothing, nothing, nothing! He felt his clenched fists shake, equal parts rage and fear. Sammy let out an echoing roar as his shaking right fist connected with the nearest tree. Instead of sending his fist exploding into pain, the trunk gave with the force, crumpling like paper. He yanked his fist back, confused. The space where his fist had been was now flooded with light, sending a warm glow out into the woods. Sammy bent down to get a better look, frowning.

  
What he saw was their kitchen sink. His kitchen sink. His and Jack's. _What?_ He appeared to be looking down at their sink, his own hands cleaning two plates. He could hear himself humming as he scrubbed the remains of casserole off of the plates.

  
"Thanks for dinner, baby," came a voice from behind him. Sammy froze, feeling his heart skip a beat. That voice, dammit, that _beautiful, beautiful voice…_  
The Sammy whose eyes he was looking through didn't seem to share the same… shock? Fear? Longing? to see the owner of the voice again, merely glancing back at Jack for a second to offer a smile. He only got to see Jack for a moment, but he took in every detail. Jack's dark brown cheeks were lightly painted with red, the way they always were, and a wide smile took up his face, putting his chipped front right tooth on full display.

"Of course," Past-Sammy said, then turned back to the dishes.

  
Present-Sammy tried to scream Jack's name, but no sound came out of his mouth. He tried again, _again, Jack! Jack-!_ But nothing. The running of the water was the only sound for what felt like hours.

  
_Just let me see him again!_ he tried to yell, tried to scream at the top of his lungs, but it predictably made no impact.

  
"Oh my gosh, Sammy, isn't that what the dishwasher is for?" Jack groaned after a while. Past-Sammy laughed a little bit.

  
"The dishwasher _sanitizes,_ sweetheart. This is what gets the gunk off. You have to pre-rinse."

"I- _oh, that explains it…_ Jack said under his breath. Sammy turned around, amused.

"Jack Wright, do you not pre-rinse our dishes? Is that why I keep finding stuck on pieces after we wash them?" Jack sucked in his bottom lip trying to hold back a guilty smile, looking at the ground. ( _I forgot he did that,_ Sammy realized in awe.)

"...Maybe…" Past-Sammy let out a loud laugh.

“You’re a mess,” he remarked, turning off the sink and drying his hands on the towel hanging on the oven handle. Jack grinned.

“And you love me for it,” he declared. Sammy smiled, walking over to where Jack sat at the kitchen table.

“Guilty as charged.” He leaned down and pushed Jack’s curls out of the way so he could press his lips to Jack’s forehead. Jack stood up, giving Sammy a proper kiss.

“I wish the listeners knew you were this sweet,” Jack said softly when they came up for air. Sammy made an amused face.

“What?” Jack pursed his lips.

“You know what I mean. I wish they could tell that… that you aren’t a douche!” Jack said. Sammy smirked.

“We knew what we were getting into when we decided to be Shock Jocks, Jack. That’s just part of the gig.”

“I know, I know.” He reached up to peck Sammy on the cheek one more time. “Just a little annoying how the listening public thinks that the love of my life is just Boring White Cishet #4.” He released his arms from around Sammy’s neck.

“Anyways, we really need to get ready for work. I have a lot to talk about tonight, Sammy. I heard about this little mountain town with a lake monster and ghosts and…” Jack’s voice slowly faded as the memory turned into static.

Sammy felt like he’d been punched in the gut at the end there. That was _that night?_ He knew the day that it happened, remembered that broadcast almost word for word. The very first day Jack brought up King Falls. The day it began.

It wasn’t the memory of the day that hurt him, or the knowledge of what would happen in the months and years after. It wasn’t the still-empty ache where his fiancé should be, reminding him that he isn’t whole anymore, doesn’t work anymore, a broken man perpetually on the edge of breaking down further. No, it was the way that he _hadn’t remembered that dinner at all._ With all of his longing for Jack, all of the time he spent running through their time together searching for some kind of sign, any kind of sign of what the hell happened, he hadn’t remembered such a simple thing. He’d forgotten the way that Jack bit his bottom lip when he was embarrassed. He’d forgotten their nice dinner and how Jack was sad that their listeners never saw past the major-hetero-douchebag that was Shotgun Sammy. He’d forgotten that entire night in the mess of it all, too busy worrying about what he’d lost to remember the nice things he has. Had. Past tense.  
_Fuck,_ he tried to hiss, but his voice still wasn’t working. He banged his head against the tree, disappointed when it didn’t hurt. Fuck, he wanted to hurt. Let something outside outweigh the pain inside, for once, for fucking once!

“You know what would be worse?” drawled a monotonous voice from behind him. He whipped around. The rest of the forest was no longer visible. Pitch, pitch black on all sides. He couldn’t see the owner, but he knew exactly who it was.

Sammy tried to scream something along the lines of “alright, Shadowfuck, what’s worse?” but predictably, no sound emerged. The Shadowmaker apparently heard him anyway.

 _“If I get you and they forget you too, just like you forgot him,”_ came the low reply, somehow both a whisper and a booming thing that thudded in his ears. Sammy froze, letting the answer sink in.

That was worse, wasn’t it? He pictured Ben, Emily, Troy, and Lily, years having gone by without him, all so tired from any grief they felt over his absence that they just forgot him, forgot the few parts of him that he considered good and just drowned in his loss. It was beyond him why they cared, but he wasn’t enough of a fool to ignore the fact that they loved him, whether he felt it was justified or not. Or, worse still, what if they forgot him _period_ , not willing to subject themselves to the pain he put them through. What if they decided that his memory was too much to carry? He couldn’t blame them if they did, not really. After all, hadn’t he almost done the same for Jack? He hated to think it, especially after the year of progress and actual growth, actually learning to be kind of okay with himself (all things considered), but it was something he never could truly get away from. He’d almost abandoned the man he loved because he decided it was too difficult for him. He almost left Jack in the void forever, damning Jack to a fate worse than death and himself to a life of halfhearted radio shows where he wouldn’t let himself get close to anyone and too many beers every night until one or the other killed him. He ignored the fact that his voice wasn’t working and screamed. He felt his vocal chords straining, his breath thinning. He could almost hear his voice, faraway and murky like someone was playing his screams at him through water. Sobs shook his chest and his fingers dug into his arms. Pain. Finally, some pain to draw away from his head. He tried to dig deeper into skin, but this time there was resistance, something keeping him from hurting himself further.

 _No!_ he tried to scream.

From somewhere faraway, he heard the soft sound of a voice. “Stop it, Sammy! _Stop,_ y... hurting yourself…!” His grip weakened. Where was that coming from? It grew clearer. “Sammy, it’s okay! …here!” What a familiar voice it was. He recognized it, he knew he did. He tried to get closer to it, to be wherever the voice was. That voice was safety. “Sammy, please!” the voice begged, clear as day and… crying?

Sammy opened his eyes. There was a face there, a worried face streaked with tears. A face he knew, a face he loved. _Ben._

“Holy shit, Sammy,” Ben breathed, putting his head on the bed next to Sammy in relief. Ben let go of Sammy’s wrists which he noticed were tensed up. He relaxed the muscles, looking at his hands in confusion. His fingernails had blood underneath them, his blood as far as he could tell. Thank goodness. He didn’t think he could deal with it if… if it were Ben’s.

“Fuck, Ben, what-” Sammy began, cut off by a cough. His throat was raw and hurt like it had never hurt before.

“Sammy! Sammy, are you okay?” Ben demanded, his hands hovering over his friend as he tried to figure out what to do to help.

“I’m-” He wheezed. “I’m alright, Ben,” he whispered. Ben put his hands down but the worry in his eyes didn’t subside.

“Gah, dude, you- you scared the shit out of me,” Ben said shakily, rubbing at his moist eyes. “That… that was nothing even _close_ to alright.” Sammy started to rub his arms but winced in pain. His nails had broken skin. Sammy looked back at Ben, all wide, scared eyes and soft, caring looks.

 _I scared him. I scared Ben._ A pang of guilt bubbled in his chest.

“I’m really sorry for waking you up, Ben, I-”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence, Sammy Stevens,” Ben warned, but any hostility was replaced with concern. “You have nothing to apologize for.” Sammy sighed, tears pricking in his eyes.

“I- thanks. Thanks, Ben,” he breathed, the little voice he had left breaking. A tear slid down his face against his wishes. Ben’s brow wrinkled in a concerned frown.

“C’mere, Sammy, c’mere…” He slid onto the bed and gathered Sammy into a tight hug which was gratefully returned. A sob escaped from Sammy’s throat. It tore into his already-fucked-up-throat, but he couldn’t stop it. Fuck, he needed to cry. “It’s okay, dude. It’ll be okay. It was just a dream.” Sammy almost wanted to protest, to insist that there was nothing okay or “just a dream” about the Void or about forgetting Jack, but he knew Ben would try to reason him out of that way of thinking and Sammy couldn’t _deal_ with that right now. No logic, no self love, only Ben hugs.

They were quiet for a moment (other than Sammy’s crying), Ben rubbing Sammy’s back with one hand and holding the back of his head with the other. Ben waited for Sammy’s sobs to dissolve into hiccups before pulling away enough to get a look at Sammy’s face.

“Are you… are you okay?” Ben asked quietly. Sammy almost laughed at that, but thought better of it.

“No, not really,” he said, shifting his legs from where they were falling asleep. “But, y’know, it was a nightmare. It’ll be fine in the morning.” Ben took a deep breath, closing his eyes.

“No offense, Sammy, but horseshit,” he said bluntly. Sammy laughed abruptly in surprise. “This wasn’t just any nightmare, Sammy, and you know it. You don’t just…” Ben hesitated. “You have _never_ screamed like that when you’ve had a nightmare, even right after- right after the incident.” Sammy winced. The ‘incident’ was what they always said instead of ‘that time that Sammy tried to kill himself by jumping into the fucking void and scarred Ben for the rest of his life’.

“Well…” Sammy sighed, looking away. “Okay, so it was a little different, but… shit, Ben, I really don’t think it’s too big of a deal.” Blatant lies and the both of them knew it, but Sammy hoped Ben would ignore it.

‘Hoping Ben would ignore it’ went about as well as it normally did.

“Sammy.” Sammy hummed, but didn’t turn his face to Ben. “Dammit, Sammy, look at me!” Sammy didn't move. "Please?" Ben tried.

 _...Fuck Ben and fuck his adorable little brother persuasiveness,_ Sammy thought bitterly, reluctantly looking at Ben. Ben's big brown eyes, brimming with tears, met his.

"I can't help you if you don't let me, Sammy," Ben said softly, slowly. Sammy subconsciously tried to rub his arms again, then cursed when he disturbed the wounds.

"Okay, Ben, listen," Sammy said tiredly. "I need to get this-" He lifted up his arms covered in dried blood. "-cleaned up. I'll… I'll tell you what happened if you help me." Ben's eyes lit up.

"Sammy, you know I would help you anyways," he pointed out. A fond smile played at Sammy's lips.

"I know." Ben grinned.

"No take-backs," Ben clarified. Sammy nodded. "Okay, c'mon, let's get you bandaged up."

Ben helped Sammy out of his bed, clinging tightly to Sammy's hand. Sammy didn't think Ben would let go for anything in the world, not that he minded.

They made their way to the bathroom right down the hall. Sammy turned on the water, shifting the handles so the water was hot, but not boiling. He lowered his arms beneath the water, wincing a little with the contact.

"Is it dumb," he wondered, "that we've been through all this… painful shit… but I still react badly to small cuts like I did when I was a kid?" Ben frowned.

"Pain is still pain, man," he reminded him. "Just because a bullet wound hurts more than a paper cut doesn't mean the paper cut doesn't hurt." Sammy smiled a little.

"Look at you, Captain Maturity," he said, amused.

"More like 'Captain Not-Letting-Sammy-Dunk-On-Himself-For-Stupid-Stuff'," Ben corrected, offering Sammy a towel to dry his arms with. Sammy snorted, sitting on the lid of the toilet.

"Fair, I guess." Ben opened the cabinet.

"Okay, gauze? 'Cause it's such a big area?" he asked. Sammy nodded.

"Yeah, probably." Ben gave a thumbs up with one hand as he grabbed the gauze with the other.

"And here's the Neosporin." Ben closed the cabinet, taking the cap off of the medicine. "Okay, Sammy, start talking while I wrap you up." Sammy took a deep breath, putting his left arm on the counter for Ben to start working on.

"Okay," he said, running his other hand through his mess of hair. "This is so embarrassing, it's so _stupid-"_

"Hey!" Ben said firmly, causing Sammy to jump a little. "Knock it off, okay? Your fears are your own for a reason. Don't discount them. I don't know if you've noticed, but we don't exactly live in the safest town."

 _"Understatement of the year,"_ Sammy muttered, causing Ben to laugh a little.

“So whatever your fears are, they’re justified. I’m not going to judge _anything_ you’re afraid of, okay?”

“Okay,” Sammy said. He took another deep breath, considering how to begin. “It was Perdition Woods and all of the awesomeness that that entails,” he said drily. “I mean, I didn’t see the doorstep or anything, but I was on the path I remember walking when I… y’know.” Ben looked up from applying the Neosporin to give Sammy a concerned look. Sammy pretended he didn’t see it and moved on. “I didn’t know why I was there and I was _angry_... so, uh, I punched a tree and it turned into kind of a movie screen, I guess? And it was showing…” He took a shaky breath. “It was showing an evening with Jack. A really nice one that I hadn’t remembered.” He felt his throat tighten. “And…”

“Take your time, Sammy. It’s okay,” Ben said, giving his hand a light squeeze. Sammy nodded, swallowing hard. _Keep going._

“I realized that that was… the day…” His voice cracked halfway through. “That was the first day that Jack mentioned this town. Mentioned King Falls.” Sammy shut his eyes tightly, trying not to let the tears fall. _"Dammit,"_ he hissed.

"Oh," Ben said softly, putting down the gauze he'd started to unroll. He pulled Sammy into a hug.

 _“I’ve talked about this s-so many times, why am I still f-fucking choked up about it?”_ Sammy whispered into Ben’s shoulder. Ben rubbed his back.

“Because you love him. And that love is going to get him back, you understand that?” Sammy pulled away.

“But I don’t love him _enough!”_ Sammy hissed. “I forgot about him, Ben! I forgot about that night, about little things that he did… hell, I can barely remember his voice! If there weren’t so many recordings of him, I would’ve forgotten that too!”

“Sammy-” Ben tried to interrupt, frowning, but Sammy just kept on going.

“I mean if I could forget him, the _love of my fucking life,_ what’s stopping you from forgetting me if I got taken? If- If you guys just- _if I_ -” Sammy’s breath was rapid and shaky, his feet propped up on the toilet and his hands knotted in his long hair.

“Sammy, _breathe,”_ Ben said, kneeling in front of Sammy to meet his eyes. Even before all of this, Ben always thought Sammy had the saddest eyes of anyone he’d ever met. Ben brought his hands up to Sammy’s, gently pulling them out of his hair. “C’mon, breathe with me, Sammy.” He demonstrated. _In. Hold. Out._ Sammy shakily mirrored him. _In. Hold. Out._ Ben dried Sammy’s cheeks with the long sleeve of his flannel pajamas.

“I don’t,” Sammy said quietly, “want you to forget about me.” Ben’s frown deepened.

“Sammy, there is no way in _hell_ that I could ever forget about you. I am who I am today _because of you,_ man. No amount of time apart could ever change that. And you aren't going anywhere, Sammy. We would never let you get taken. _I_ would never let you get taken.”

“But I knew him _forever,_ Ben! I saw him almost every day for ten years, how could I just- just forget him like that?” he demanded. Ben sighed, taking Sammy’s hands.

“Sammy, people forget things. The human brain can’t retain everything it’s ever learned or it won’t be able to process new information!” Ben paused for a second. “I think. I think that’s how that goes? I don’t entirely know, but the point still stands. Sammy, there are things you don’t remember about _yourself,_ I guarantee, and nobody spends more time with you than you.”

He met eyes with Sammy. “It’s okay to forget some things. It’s okay to forget _important_ things. You need to if you want to make room for _new important things._ Liiiike…”

He smiled. “New family.” Sammy made a soft sound.

“Fuck, Ben, I don’t deserve a brother like you.” He enveloped Ben in a tight hug.

“I beg to differ, Sammy, but thanks. I love you,” Ben said, laying his head on Sammy’s shoulder.

“I love you too, Ben,” Sammy echoed, meaning it with his whole entire being. After a second, Ben pulled away.

“Now c’mon, Sammy, we really need to finish patching you up.”

**Author's Note:**

> OKAAAAAY  
> Hi, howdy, hello, you either just read my fic or scrolled all the way to the bottom. At any rate, hiyah. I really hope you liked the fic! It took me several days to write (and several classes were skipped to write it) and honestly? I'm more happy about it than I thought I would be. It's funky. It's fun. It's the fluffy fluff my lads deserve.  
> If you enjoyed the fic, consider leaving a kudos or a comment, or both if you're feelin Spicy(TM)  
> One kudos or comment=one consolation hug over the fact that ducktales is ending,,, :pleading_face:  
> Both equals a hug and a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. idk why, i just like peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. probably gonna have one for lunch. mmmm pbj,,,  
> Hey you! Yes, you! You in the back there, yes! Yeah! Hi! You are a badass and bomb as FUCK! I believe in you! You can DO THAT THING YOU'RE TRYING TO DO!  
> alphonse frankenstein voice: THERE'LL ALWAYS BE ONE PERSON WHO BELIEVES IN YOUUUUU  
> Drink some water, eat some food, take your meds if you need them, wear your mask, and have an AWESOME day!


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